Meet the Mercenaries
by Cyndapants
Summary: Each of the nine RED Teufort mercenaries have their own story to tell of how they were recruited into the business. A series of short stories detailing how the various team members ended up in their positions on RED.
1. Meet the Sniper

Have standards: be polite, be efficient, have a plan to kill everyone you meet. The rules had been drilled into Mundy's head since before he could say them himself, though he did have to add a bit to that last one as he started his career. Even without his addition, he didn't think his parents would have meant for him to take them the way he did, perhaps they'd thought it make him be more careful out in the streets or the bush, helping out on their farm or watching out for those nasty drop bears. Rather than incorporating it into his job and his way of life the way he did. Mundy's parents didn't like their son's line of work, his father referring to him as a crazed gunman, rather than one of the more civilised words that Mundy prefered to use, like assassin or sniper. To him, the difference was obvious, one's an occupation and the other was mental sickness. But despite their differences, Mundy managed to get along well with his parents.

The Australian was convinced that he was the best sniper around, the best in Oz, and perhaps the best in the world. Who else would wait around for hours, pissing into jars, just to get the perfect shot? His standards set him apart from the rest of his competition, they wasted ammunition, they panicked and they showed disrespect like the bastards they were. When you wanted something doing, you had to do it properly. No half assed jobs.

Which was why Mundy hated it when he didn't manage to complete a job to his best abilities. A body shot, for example, made him want to kick himself. Sometimes it couldn't be helped, a target would decide to walk in an unexpected direction or stand up. It was worse when they felt they needed to tie a shoelace as Mundy held his finger over the trigger. As long as the target died, a body shot was just about acceptable. But a complete miss was out of the question. A waste of a bullet, and time for the target to get away. And more time for Mundy where he would have to find his target again.

It was one of those nights. Mundy was sat in the building opposite where his target was supposed to work. He was waiting for his target to walk out of the building. But who knew when that was supposed to be? Mundy was patient, the man had to leave at some point and he could wait until then.

That point came at almost 2 o'clock in the morning. If years of coffee drinking and late nights hadn't taken their toll, Mundy would have probably fallen asleep with his face to the eyepiece. But as it were, Mundy was wide awake and ready to take the shot.

The businessman walked out of the building with a few other people, Mundy had no idea who this man was, if he had family or why he was wanted dead. But none of it mattered. Think too long and the opportunity was lost.

The gunshot rang out.

Another man stepped out in front of the target. The target's saviour fell to the ground, blood pouring out of a hole in his chest. Someone screamed. The panic made it difficult to tell whether the bullet had still hit its intended target. But then Mundy spotted his intended target, standing up from his kneeling position by the fallen man's corpse and pointed directly at Mundy's hiding spot. It was if the man had seen the source of the bullet, which would have been near impossible. But Mundy wasted no time waiting to find out. It was time to leave.

He grabbed his coffee mug reading '#1 Sniper', his SMG and lastly slung the sniper rifle over his shoulder. He made his way to the far end of the building, close to where he had parked his campervan, and hopefully the stairway anyone would be less likely to take if they were pursuing a mystery sniper from the streets below. Mundy was wrong.

The sound of footsteps pounding up the stairs echoed into Mundy's ears. Luckily they were making too much noise to hear the single pair above them, and Mundy managed to reach the door to the next floor before waiting outside for them to pass. One ear pressed against the wood, the footsteps got louder and then quieter again as Mundy assumed that they passed him. He opened the door and continued his way down the stairs, while his pursuers followed his false trail.

Reaching the ground floor, Mundy opened the door to the back alley of the building where his camper was waiting for him. Just before he stepped out, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He grabbed the kukri from its sheath on his belt and spun around. A man Mundy had failed to notice as he walked past had decided to take advantage of the situation. The kukri parried a stab from the attacker and Mundy managed to twist the attacker's arm so he dropped the weapon.

Mundy pushed the man against a wall, and repositioned his kukri for a more suitable position for the situation. The man grinned at him off puttingly, causing Mundy to falter slightly. The half a second was all the attacker needed. A loud bang echoed throughout the stairway, causing Mundy to flinch and his ears to ring. But he didn't waste a moment, cutting the man trapped against the wall's throat. A revolver clanged as it hit the ground. As Mundy's eyes followed the sound, he noticed the large red spot forming on his side.

It was then that Mundy's mind pieced together what had happened, and his body decided that the adrenaline wasn't enough to take the pain. Mundy gasped and grabbed his side where the blood seeped through.

"Bloody spooks," he grunted to himself through clenched teeth.

Mundy shoved the kukri back into its sheath on his belt and hobbled out of the door towards his campervan just visible at the end of the alleyway. He reached the door and threw it open, clambering into the driver's seat. Mundy knew he was in no condition to drive, as he didn't want to pass out through loss of blood. But he also didn't want to end up getting killed by the insane bodyguards of whoever this man he'd been sent to, and failed to, kill. He started up the engine and slammed his foot down on the gas pedal.

The campervan roared to life, hurtling down the dark alleyway and out onto the street beyond. Mundy needed to get out of the city before any of those men could follow him. Then into the outback, he felt much more comfortable surrounded by desert than high rise buildings. But he could drive only as far as his bleeding wound could let him. He needed to wrap it up, and make sure that bullet wasn't still inside him.

There were no sounds of a car following in pursuit, and the quiet of a city in the early hours meant there was no traffic to stop Mundy as he drove out of the city.

Mundy was jolted awake by a sharp knocking on the door of his campervan. Instinctively he reached for his kukri he kept at the side of his sleeping area. In doing so, he stretched the muscles in his side and groaned as the pain blossomed, remembering the incidence of the night before.

He'd managed to reach far enough into the outback where he was fairly certain he wouldn't be followed, and had been able to bandage up the bullet wound he'd received before falling asleep. But if he was sure that he wouldn't be followed, who was at the door?

The knocking sounded again, a bit more impatient than last time. Mundy grabbed the kukri and swung his legs over the bunk, ignoring the pain flaring in his side again. He sheathed it and donned his typical hat and aviators from their place on the counter in his kitchenette, before heading towards the door. He flung the door open, one hand on the hilt of his knife.

"Mr Mundy?" The young woman smartly dressed in purple on the other side of the door was not the gang of men holding guns that he was expecting. Although he didn't think they would have the courtesy to knock first.

Mundy exhaled a breath he didn't know that he'd been holding woman looked at him expectantly. Not forgetting his manners, Mundy tipped his hat in greeting, "That's me, mate. Mundy at your service."

He glanced around the door frame of the camper, making sure that this woman wasn't a decoy and there was a group of revenge seeking businessmen hidden somewhere. The only thing that stood out against the desert of the Australian outback was the sleek looking black car parked behind him, he assumed it was the woman's. "What brings you all the way out 'ere?"

"My name's Miss Pauling, I've been sent by my employers to make you a job offer."

"Ah, I see. Where are me manners? Would you like to come inside? I'd offer a cup of coffee, but sadly there's no hot water out 'ere. That reminds me… I should really get a new camping stove."

"Thank you." Mundy moved out of the way to allow room for the woman to get past him into the small campervan.

"Sorry, it's like a mad woman's breakfast in 'ere." He opened some of the curtains, trying to make it a bit brighter. Having someone knock on your door waking you up didn't give much time to make your place look tidy.

Miss Pauling looked amused at the expression, while taking in the vehicle. Several pictures of Mr Mundy and some other people were stuck on a cupboard and a few books were shoved in a corner, 'The Adventures of Robin Hood' stood out among them. Other than those, there was nothing detailing his personal life. There was a map on a corkboard with string and pictures of various people pinned on to it. One of the pictures had a large red ring drawn around the subject and yesterday's date written underneath. In the corner, a large rifle leaned against the wall. Mundy sat down across the table from her.

"So, what sorta job are we talkin'?"

"A permanent position for the foreseeable future. Full time, so you wouldn't be able to be in business with anyone else."

"And how exactly am I supposed to tell that to my clients?" He thought about the mess he needed to sort out after his disaster the night before, "I can't just walk off with unfinished business. Even if I did, mate, the bastards would find me soon enough."

"We can take care of that."

Mundy looked shocked at the woman's dismissal of the situation.

"What is this 'job' offer? Must be bloody important if you're willin' to snipe my targets for me."

"I can't give you details right now, Mr Mundy, for various reasons. What I can tell you is that my employers are recruiting various mercenaries, so I hope your sitting up in trees shooting things hasn't put you off group work." She gave the man a sly look.

Mundy decided to ignore the insult, "Pay?"

"5 Million US a year. Weekends and Christmas off."

"Crikey," he stared at the woman, but hopefully she couldn't tell through his aviators. 5 million a year was crazy money. Mundy leaned back in his seat, thinking. He'd get a huge amount of money, decent holidays and they'd (whoever _they_ were) would deal with the sticky situation he was in. The risk was he didn't know what exactly she'd want from him. She obviously knew who he was and what he did, Mundy didn't really want to think about how she knew these things, so hopefully she knew his potential and how to best use it.

"Miss Pauling, I'd like to accept your offer."

She smiled, one of the first true emotions to show on her face. "Great," she said, "these are for you." She passed a folder over the table to him. 'Sniper' was stamped across the front in bold red letters.

"We prefer titles and professions over names," she explained, "so we'll refer to you as the Sniper."

The Sniper nodded blankly, but couldn't help wondering who this lady's mysterious employers were. He opened the folder. Inside was a contract of employment and a plane ticket to New Mexico. He looked up to see Miss Pauling at the door to the campervan.

"We'll have your vehicle shipped over with you. Someone will be at the airport to collect it and your weapons so they can be sent separately."

Mundy couldn't believe that this was all happening so fast.

"Oh and Sniper? Pack something red."


	2. Meet the Pyro

The huge gates loomed over Miss Pauling as she drove underneath them; the task of collecting the next of the nine mercenaries given to he by the Administrator stuck in her mind.

The dark grey clouds overhead removed any features that might have made the hospital a pleasant place to visit. Separating the complex from the rest of the world was a wall over eight feet high topped with a mess of barbed wire. Beyond the walls was a whole load of nothing. A forest of pines stretched for miles with no sign of human presence. Unless you could fly, the only way in and out was a badly maintained single lane dirt road that brought it's travellers to the next town of a few hundred souls.

There was not a single vehicle parked outside, making the building look even more abandoned and foreboding than was first evident. Miss Pauling parked her red car at a crooked angle near to the doors of the building before emerging, smirking at the disorder of her parked car compared to the modern and orderly building before making her way inside. The room she entered was blindingly white, the fluorescent lights covering the ceiling made it so even the shadows looked clean. A waiting area was situated in one corner, comprised of a white sofa and a plastic fern in a white china pot. The room was so clean that it made Miss Pauling feel uncomfortable. A huge wooden desk dominated the far end of the room, a receptionist sat behind it, staring at a computer screen and filing her nails.

Miss Pauling made her way towards the bored looking woman and introduced herself, "Hello, I'm Miss Pauling. I'm here to see one of your... patients."

The woman looked up at her, hardly any expression on her face. "Oh yes. We've been expecting you." She pressed a button underneath the desk. "Someone will be here shortly to show you where he is. You can take a seat over there if you like." She gestured towards the white sofa before returning to the task of filing her nails and staring at the computer screen.

Miss Pauling hadn't been waiting long when a man wearing a blue nurse uniform appeared. "Hey there, you can follow me."

She stood up and followed the nurse out of a doorway to the side of the room.

"I'm surprised someone actually came for him, I feel a bit sorry for him honestly. He hasn't had any visitors since he arrived. I think I might be the only one that cares for the poor guy. The rest of the staff avoid any contact with him, as if he wasn't really there." The compassion that the nurse showed made Miss Pauling wonder how bad the man she'd been sent to see really was. Would he even be worth her time?

"How long has he been here?" Miss Pauling enquired.

"About a year now, not much improvement though. I think whatever 'cures' the doctors are using are bullshit, 'cuse my French."

"Oh yes?"

"He was completely depressed, understandably, when he arrived, hardly taking and not really eating. After he'd been through several rounds of whatever the docs were doing to him, he'd stopped talking altogether and wouldn't even look at anyone that came by to see how he was doing. I found out that he likes to show his feelings through art, so at least that's one way of working out what's going on under that mask… You'll see what I mean, this is his room."

He drew to a stop by a door indistinguishable from any of the others, unlocked it and stepped aside to let Miss Pauling enter.

Not entirely sure of what exactly to expect from the room, she peered around the door before entering. What was previously a white room was covered with cartoonish paintings and murals. A kind of candy-land was painted across the walls and floor. Rainbows stretched from one corner of the room to the other, lollipops sticking out of bright green grass and unicorns jumping across meadows of candyfloss with a background of a clear blue sky. What made it all stand out more was the areas that has been coated with paints of yellow, orange and red. It was obvious what they were supposed to be, in places the flames looked so real that they lit up the candy-land behind them. The lollipops and unicorns glowing in the light.

In the centre of the floor was the source of the flames, they stretched out across the room from underneath where a man was sitting. The man seemed captivated at something, staring off into the world he had created. The patient wore a jumpsuit the same colour as the nurse's uniform, but what made him stand out was the gas mask covering his face.

As Miss Pauling closed the door, the man looked up at her but didn't react.

She cleared her throat, "Good evening. I'm not sure if anyone told you that I was coming to see you."

She was met with silence from the masked man, who was still looking at her, his head slightly tilted. After a few seconds, the man shook his head. Miss Pauling hadn't planned for this eventuality, she'd done her background research but hadn't intended on having no response at all. It was looking like she needed to try a different approach.

She sat down in front of him. "Did you paint these?" She gestured at the artwork on the walls around her.

The patient nodded.

"They look lovely," she smiled. "You like fire, I take it."

The man nodded again.

"You see, I was sent here to find you. My boss has an offer for you. A job." Miss Pauling couldn't tell whether the man looked interested or not. "They're looking for the best of the best, the smartest, the most efficient and the most ruthless. And you're one of them. There'll be fire, lots of it. Hot meals..." She looked around the room, noticing a significant lack of facilities, "a bed and friends to stick by your side."

The man had put his hands together, in what she interpreted as joy.

"As a bonus, it'd get you out of this place." The masked man nodded eagerly.

She reached into the bag she had brought in with her. Inside was a folder with 'Pyro' stamped in red on the front. "This is for you, assuming you accept my offer."

The man took it, looking through its content before closing it and looking at her expectantly.

"We prefer titles over names, is Pyro fine with you?"

Pyro nodded, stood up and offered a hand to Miss Pauling.

Miss Pauling accepted the hand and stood up, dusting herself off, "Then let's get you out of this place."


End file.
